


blind eyes could blaze like meteors

by someawkwardprose



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Complicated Relationships, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Audio 011: Broken, Season/Series 01
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-15 09:06:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28561032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/someawkwardprose/pseuds/someawkwardprose
Summary: Ianto and Jack, and a moment that solidifies them. Not that they know it.
Relationships: Jack Harkness/Ianto Jones
Comments: 18
Kudos: 73





	blind eyes could blaze like meteors

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [do not go gentle](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28386996) by [someawkwardprose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/someawkwardprose/pseuds/someawkwardprose). 



> okay so this is a coda to my canon-divergence _Broken_ fic, _do not go gentle_ , but you don't need to read that to understand this one, so long as you know the general gist of the audio drama. warnings for: canonical character terminal illness (Glenda), canonical mental health issues (Ianto), and Jack being a mysterious but still caring bastard. 
> 
> as ever, shout out to the simp squad, in particular vi, who is my everpresent cheerleader, and nik who constantly yells at me about my commas and generally makes me write better. <3

“You’re keeping secrets.” 

Ianto closed his eyes and sighed. “I’m not.” 

“You are,” Jack said. It wasn’t an accusation, just a simple statement of fact. Jack didn’t even sound particularly angry, only concerned, and that was worse. 

“It’s just personal,” he said, and started fiddling with the coffee machine. From the corner of his eye, he spotted Jack leaning against the counter, clearly settling in for a conversation, and he cursed Jack’s newfound observational skills. Five months ago, Jack’s nosiness might have saved lives. Three months ago, Ianto had asked him to save his own. Now, Jack’s close monitoring of Ianto just meant that the hardwon control he was clinging to by his fingertips was slipping away from his grasp. 

Christ, couldn’t Jack just find someone else to psychoanalyse, just once?

“You can talk to me about personal stuff, you know,” Jack said, passing Ianto two mugs when he gestured for them. “We’re friends, aren’t we?” 

Ianto hummed noncommittally. Jack was his boss, first and foremost, and maybe something more. He certainly spent more time with Jack than he did with anyone else, both when playing secretary and also with the way the man just invited himself into Ianto's flat twice a week, a bag of groceries and rented DVD in hand. There was something between them, something undefined that he carefully avoided thinking about, and Jack had never brought it up. Perhaps for the same reasons that Ianto didn’t. He’d forgiven Jack for Lisa a while ago, and he was working on forgiving Jack for everything else that came after. But friends...that was a stretch, and Jack knew it.

For one, friends didn’t fuck other friends into blissful oblivion so they could sleep through an entire night, or at least they didn’t on Ianto’s planet. Then again, sometimes it seemed like Jack wasn’t exactly from Ianto’s planet. 

“You’re upset,” Jack persisted. 

Ianto passed him his mug. “It’s nothing, sir.” 

“Ianto,” he cajoled, deliberately brushing Ianto’s fingers with his own as he took it. 

“Just leave it,” Ianto snapped, then slammed his mouth shut. He took a deep, calming breath. “Sorry.” 

“Now I really am worried,” Jack said, and he leaned forward into Ianto’s personal space, close enough that Ianto could smell that bloody aftershave he swore he didn’t wear. “What’s eating you?” 

Ianto’s fingers tightened on the handle of his own mug, but he knew that Jack was like a dog with a bone when he wanted to know something. Or perhaps a more apt comparison would be a shark who’d sensed blood in the water. “My mother. She was in remission.” 

Jack sucked in a sharp breath. “I take it she’s not anymore.” 

“No.” He swallowed. “They got it wrong. Stage four. She told me last night.” 

“Shit,” Jack said. 

“She’s got months, they think,” he said, staring at the wall blankly.

Jack’s arm came around his waist, and when he didn’t move away, Jack pulled him into a hug, tucking Ianto’s face into the crook of his neck. Ianto, much like Pavlov’s dog, found himself relaxing, sinking into Jack’s embrace. A careful hand stroked down his spine, and it didn’t matter that the others could be back any second, that Jack was breaking the rules Ianto had established that first day, their second time, because he really didn’t want Jack to let go. He didn’t cry - wasn’t sure he could, really - but Jack’s simple, uncomplicated intimacy carried the same kind of catharsis. He hadn’t been touched in so long, before Jack, and now Jack had turned his casual invasions of Ianto’s personal space into a weapon of sorts, tearing down the walls he’d carefully built around himself. 

“I don’t know what to do,” he admitted, whispering the words into Jack’s skin. He felt Jack shiver at the brush of his lips against his throat, but he didn’t do anything, just held him a little tighter. 

“Today? You’re going to go down to my bunk and take a nap, because I know you wouldn’t have slept last night,” Jack said, and while his voice was gentle, the words were tinged with the power of command. It was the Captain speaking, the man Ianto and the team had entrusted their lives to, not the playful and surprisingly thoughtful man who was slowly carving himself a place in Ianto’s heart. “You won’t come out until the others have gone - sh, no, I’m still talking.” A hand came up to grip the back of his neck, carefully, with just enough pressure to make the point when Ianto tried to speak.

“I have work to do,” Ianto protested, pulling away from Jack’s embrace. “The archives-” 

“Can wait,” Jack said firmly. “Sleep first. It’s only four hours before regular clocking off time. Then I’ll take you home, and we can order something for you to eat. And then we can talk about what you want to do.

“Don’t make me make it an order, Ianto,” he said when Ianto hesitated, worrying his bottom lip.

Jack never gave him orders in his personal life. He certainly wasn’t shy about sharing his opinions, but he never pushed, never _told_ Ianto what to do. Ianto didn’t want Jack to start thinking he could, because he might be reserved, but he wasn’t _submissive_ _._ But Jack’s eyes were compassionate, and his hands - that had wrapped themselves around Ianto’s wrists when he’d moved - were gentle. Maybe Jack just knew that he needed some kind of structure to hold him together right now, and he was giving it the only way he could. After a moment, he nodded.

“Good.” Jack smiled, the quick flash of teeth and dimples that showed when he was really pleased with something. “I’ll tell the team you’re on an errand, and I’ll come down to check on you in a bit.” 

The rest of his resistance evaporated when Jack released his wrists to cup his face and press a kiss to his forehead. “I won’t say it’s going to be okay, but you’re not alone now. Not anymore.” 

Ianto carried that feeling of comfort down the ladder and into sleep with him. Whatever else was between them, whatever secrets or betrayals or feelings he couldn’t talk about, he knew one thing - Jack cared about him. Right now, that was enough.

**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoyed


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